Lost in Another World
by rhapsodybree
Summary: Amanda Price has to deal with meddling, broken promises, marriage and babies in a world so familiar to her, but so different from her own. Each chapter draws from a different character to reveal the future of Amanda, Darcy and company. Complete.
1. Lady Catherine

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Seated next to her husband-to-be, Amanda Price leaned into him as she noted the new arrival. "Might I suggest you ask your aunt to shield her eyes?"

Darcy's eyes were on the room as he inclined his head to his loved one. "Why so madam?" he answered in an equally low tone.

"We might have had a _slight_-" the word was emphasised with the use of forefinger and thumb to indicate a small measure "-agreement about me leaving and never returning," hedged Amanda, wincing.

"Cease to speak of such things," he admonished her, briefly taking possession of her hand in his alarm.

She threaded her fingers through his in reassurance, not caring for society's dictation on acceptable physical touch. "I'm here to stay, but you might need to run interference with that fire breathing relative of yours."

She paused momentarily. "At least until I can get Jane out of her loveless marriage to Collins."

* * *

Lady Catherine – to say the least – was less than impressed to discover that not only had Miss Amanda Price broken her promise to be gone, her nephew had declared that day – that very same day – his engagement to said Miss Price.

She had been tempted to renege on her part of the promise, but she was an honourable woman and in some depths of a heart she seemed to have, she couldn't bring herself to subject the sweet Miss Bennet to a life with the insufferable Collins.

Entering the room, her beady eyes scanned the crowd. She found her target instantly and frowned disapprovingly at the close proximity of her nephew and _that _woman. "Fitzwilliam," she ordered in a clear voice firm with authority, summoning the man. "I will speak with you."

Darcy bowed to his alleged bride-to-be and obediently made his toward her.

She could barely hide her distaste as she bid him stand beside her. She spared a glance in Miss Price's direction and her disapproval soared as she saw her openly fiddling with the bodice of her dress, making her discomfort known.

Lady Catherine turned her gaze to the tall man beside her then. "You marry that g-woman Fitzwilliam, and you bring great shame to our family name," the elder woman began, her voice deathly low.

Darcy refused to be affected. "I thank you for your concern aunt, but I will marry who I please, and this is my choice."

"Are the halls of Pemberley to be thus polluted?" she cried, emotions getting the better of her for once. "Follow through with this charade and I wash my hands of you."

Fitzwilliam Darcy let his actions speak louder than words. "Aunt," he spoke with a stiff nod before he moved away, leaving behind a shocked woman used to getting her way.

_Well I never!_

* * *

_Next chapter: _Mrs Bennet.


	2. Mrs Bennet

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Mrs Bennet was one of many as she stood in the crowd ready to welcome the new Mr and Mrs Darcy.

It vexed her to no end that she could have had two daughters – _two! – _married off to two of the richest men in the country. But no, instead of keeping with her outlandish predictions, Miss Price had in fact taken her second daughter's place and wed Mr Darcy.

Sparing a look to Elizabeth now, she inwardly cringed at the new hairstyle she had taken upon – indeed, not one but three people had asked her if the Miss Eliza Bennet had succumbed to some type of illness, after all, one does not willingly cut their locks to such a startling short length without reason.

She was not certain if she liked what had come upon Elizabeth since her return. She was too independent by far and actually seemed to believe and encourage Miss Price's strange notions. Whilst having her home at Longborne once again warmed her heart, she knew it to be true that her headstrong child would be for Hammersmith once again in the not so distant future.

And if her heart could hardly bear the separation of one still unwed daughter, she was depressed at the prospect that she was to lose another daughter to the far outflung, unexplored reaches of the Americas. It did her heart wonders to know her beauty was to marry the much esteemed Mr Bingley, but why did she have to go so far away?

Dear Jane was to be spared the heartbreak of a loveless marriage with the odious Collins, and she knew that perhaps Miss Price did in fact have something to do with such luck.

For all the trouble Miss Price had brought with her ill advised house swap, she had to admit that she was feeling some gratitude for the strange woman. Indeed, she was certain that Mr Bennet looked to her as almost a daughter, and took her into his confidence much like he had done with Lizzie.

That didn't mean that the strange modern woman had completely won her over with her peculiar charm. Her suggestion for a wedding dress had been nothing short of scandalous! She had wanted the cut of the white material to expose her collarbone and arms for all to see.

She had quickly put her to rights though.

Mrs Bennet was drawn from her thoughts when applause sounded. The bride and groom had arrived! Throwing up her confetti, she didn't begrudge Miss Price – now Mrs Darcy – her happiness. Watching the happy couple pass her by, they reached the end of the line under the pretty rose arbour and drew near for a kiss.

Drawn to the image, she was struck by the passion shown on both sides for such a private action. And the duration! Flushing, she turned away.

Mrs Darcy's abandon was quite shocking!

* * *

_Next chapter: _Georgiana.


	3. Georgiana

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Georgiana Darcy gingerly pressed a hand to her curls to ensure they were in place before stepping into the small dining room for breakfast. Her dear brother and his new bride, the lovely strange Miss Price had arrived home late last night and she had only seen them briefly. She looked forward to spending more time in their presence today.

Taking her seat, delicately spreading her dress folds so as not to crease them, she smiled her consent for tea to be poured into a tea cup for her. Delicately buttering a piece of toast, she took a small bite and pondered how long she would be seated alone this morning.

It wasn't long at all.

Her new sister-in-law made such a sudden arrival without any warning that Georgiana almost spilt her tea. The flame-haired woman leaned over the back of a chair and snatched a piece of toasted bread from the table, leaning against the chair as she took a large bite and said something that might have resembled "Gods, I need caffeine."

It wasn't so much her peculiar actions as her attire that shocked Georgiana more. "You're in your nightgown!" she exclaimed.

"So?" shrugged Amanda. Seeing the young girl's eyes about to bug out of her head, she explained a little further. "We're at home right?"

Georgiana nodded.

"So why can't we come to breakfast in our nightgown if we so wish?" she said gloriously. "Who is going to see us?"

"Miss Price!" she uttered, intrigued, yet mortified as it went against sixteen years of education. "I mean, Mrs Darcy, I mean..."

Her sister-in-law put her out of her misery. "Amanda is fine."

"Amanda," said Georgiana, trying it on for size. "You do have such peculiar ideas."

"You're not the first one to tell me that," replied Amanda around her mouth full of toast, leaning forward to remove the lid of the pot, grunting when she saw it was tea.

"Pray tell, where is my brother this morning?" asked the young Darcy next.

"Fitz?" said Amanda, straightening and taking a seat. "He had a matter to resolve with the steward. After he said goodbye of course." Amanda paused with a smile on her face before she finished speaking. "He'll be down later."

Georgiana wondered at the peculiar smile at her pause. _Was there something good about this particular morning for her? _It was impolite of her to ask, and she steered to safer waters. "Would you like to take a walk with me this morning?" she said courteously.

"Sure," said Amanda, immediately flying up from her chair, dusting her hands free of toast crumbs. She looked ready to walk out the door in that very instant, but thankfully remembered herself, looking down at her clothing. "I'd better get dressed shouldn't I?"

Georgiana had no time to get any words out as she was already gone, leaving the teenager to look after her in bemusement.

* * *

_Next chapter: _Colonel Fitzwilliam.


	4. Colonel Fitzwilliam

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

"I would so wish to be married," sighed Georgiana Darcy. Amanda watched the teenager drift away from her, walking along by herself as she twirled in a circle before she stopped suddenly and turned.

"Might I ask for your frank advice?" said the teen seriously, though her doe eyes looked so innocent still.

"Ah sure?"

"You seem to be a woman of the world, so surely you must have some ideas and means with which I can make myself more attractive to Mr Wickham?" cried the young girl, grasping Amanda's hand and holding it to her chest.

"What is this I see?" boomed a new voice, and Amanda turned startled to the unknown arrival as Georgiana pulled back. "Still pining after lover boy?"

"Dicky!"

Watching the rather short man hug her taller sister-in-law, Amanda was bemused, her head flying furiously through a mental _Pride and Prejudice_ as she tried to place this character. _Maybe it was a new 'un?_

She found out soon enough.

"Mrs Darcy, may I introduce you to my cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam?" introduced Miss Darcy formally.

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam ma'am," said the man, his eyes sparkling merrily as he bent at the waist and kissed her hand. She actually had to look down at him as her mouth dropped in shock. _This was Colonel Fitzwilliam? _

"Don't be silly!" Georgiana laughed, slapping her cousin's shoulder and Amanda came back to the present. "You're not a real Colonel. You've never served in the army."

"Ssh, dear cuz," reproached the fake soldier as he released her hand. "Let us not ruin my illusions of grandeur. Darcy!" he sidetracked as the tall man marched over to them. "I really must ask," said the soldier, leaning forward on his cane with a Broadway air. "How on earth did you manage to snag such a delightful wife Darce?"

"I didn't so much snag woman as have the woman pursue me Richard," replied the aristocrat and Amanda was graced with a rare smile from her husband.

"Bet our lovely aunt was thrilled with this match up."

Amanda was prone to a sudden coughing fit as Darcy replied. "We haven't been graced with her Lady's presence since the announcement of our engagement."

"You lucky toff," said Richard gleefully. "How is that dozy cow these days? And is Anne still threatening to wipe out the world with every disease as she so delicately coughs?"

"Dicky!" censored Georgiana, thrilled and mortified in turns.

"How about that odious lap dog of hers? Collins isn't it?" he clarified. "Last I heard he got married."

"Not anymore," said Amanda with a smirk.

"Had a few problems in the marital department did he?" snorted the faux Colonel.

Walking up to the house on her husband's arm shortly after, his thumb brushing over the top of her hand, she pondered that she had expected a mild-mannered army man. Not this playful man throwing protocols and proper behaviour out the window with a flourish. "He is in the wrong time."

She realised she'd said it aloud until Fitz concurred softly. "I've often thought so myself."

* * *

_Next chapter: _Mr Bennet.


	5. Mr Bennet

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Mr Bennet sat comfortably, thankfully devoid of female presence as he reread the letter. Elizabeth had written from Hammersmith to expect Mrs Darcy at Longbourne.

Being informed of such an event by the absent Lizzie was odd, but more peculiar was her instructions for him.

He was being charged with relaying unknown news to their visitor, news he would apparently know when he set eyes upon her.

He rather though that Lizzie expected too much of him.

Letter aside, he devoted a pleasant hour to reading before a carriage rolled into the courtyard.

There was no mistaking the voice in the hall. "Someone grab me a bucket. I'm going to be sick."

Mr Bennet rose from his seat and as the new arrival complained. "Where was the bloody suspension on that thing?"

Dear Lord!

* * *

Amanda Darcy quelled her nausea and looked at the women surrounding her. "So where's Lizzie?"

"Lizzie?" asked Mrs Bennet in confusion. "Why, she's still in Hammersmith I presume."

"Then why did she order me to get here lickety split?" She quickly amended her choice of words. "I mean, arrive most hastily?"

They had no idea.

"There is a letter for you though," Kitty said, pulling parchment from her dress. "I found it on the fourth floor. I guess Hill dropped it."

"A letter?" breathed Amanda, her heart constricting fearfully. _What did this mean?_ Her hand reached blindly for the paper and she dashed up the stairs.

Sitting on the top step, refusing to look at the door at the end of the hall, shaky fingers folded the parchment back. There were only two lines in a familiar scrawl.

_You had to go and get yourself knocked up in a strange place, didn't you?_ her mother wrote, and she could smell the cigarette smoke. _Hope you've still got a man sticking around. _

Amanda flipped the paper, looking for other identifying details as the realisation that her mother thought her pregnant hit her. "You've got to be shitting me."

She made for Elizabeth's old room. Planting herself before the looking glass, she pulled her dress tight and scrutinised her figure.

She hadn't thought, but falling pregnant here was certainly a possibility, especially considering her and Fitz's enthusiasm these past six months.

Finding no additional curves, she breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

Returning downstairs, Amanda followed when Mr Bennet awkwardly ushered her into his study. "What's up sir?"

The man had a wife and five children. He knew the signs of pregnancy and decided to do his daughter's bidding by blurting it out. "You're pregnant."

"No I'm not," shot back the doubting Amanda. "How the hell did this happen?" she protested.

Mr Bennet flushed. "I can summon Mrs Bennet if it is education you require."

Amanda snorted and recovered quickly. "No, no. I'm fine." She sank into a chair. "Guess the pill wore off."

Thinking of mini-Darcys running around made her smile and Mr Bennet looked at her peculiarly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm going to be sick," she decided calmly and dashed from the room.

_

* * *

_

_Next chapter_: Lydia.


	6. Lydia

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Amanda startled from her sleep when she heard a faint knocking sound. Still half asleep, she pulled herself from the warm embrace and cosy sheets to stumble to the door. Cracking it open, she found a young lady far too chirpy for the late hour.

"Oh Lordy, I forgot," laughed Lydia Bennet. "You're a married woman now. Mamma always said that married couples behind closed doors should not be disturbed."

"What do you want Lydia?" asked the tired woman blearily, resting her head against the door.

"What peculiar nightwear you have," said teenager with a short attention span, both mortified and intrigued. "Is that your nightgown?"

"What? This?" replied the modern woman, looking down. "No, it's Darcy's." She could see that the revelation was suitably scandalous for the youngest Bennett and ushered her away. "I will see you in the morn Lydia."

The young girl winked – actually winked – and turned to make her way down the hall. "I will leave you to it."

Amanda shut the door on the giggling girl. _What on earth had possessed her to bring Lydia back with her to Pemberley? She was good company for Georgiana at least. _

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, she braced herself over the man lying before her. "Are we to expect every Bennet in the countryside?" asked Fitzwilliam Darcy sleepily, propping his head up with one hand, the other threading through his wife's hair.

"Mm?" asked Amanda, momentarily lost.

"What's got your mind lost in another world?" queried Darcy, his eyes dark on hers as he shifted his head for a better angle.

"Honestly?" said Amanda, bordering on hysteria. "I'm wondering if there are any drugs around here."

"Drugs?" asked Darcy in confusion, sitting up. "Whatever for? Are you ill?"

She scrunched her face. "Of a sort."

"Allow me to send for a doctor," he said in concern, reading to dash out the door then and there. She clasped his hand before he could get too far. "You're going to be a father."

That certainly stopped him in his tracks.

He was speechless. She had actually rendered him incapable of words. "Well, it's not that unexpected when you think about it," she babbled nervously. "What, when you consider the rate we go at it, it was bound to happen sooner or later."

She saw him flush at her openness, still struggling with her declaration and pulled him toward her. She rested his hand on her shirt where there was the beginning of a very slight swell.

Time held still.

He was braced above her now, his face inscrutable as she looked up into his candlelit features. _Austen had never written about this_, she thought to herself as her husband brushed stray hairs from her face before lowering his lips to cover hers.

Darcy resisted taking it further as he looked down upon his wife with concern. "Trust me," said Amanda breathlessly. "It's more than fine."

"I will be gentle," he promised, his lips were a hairsbreadth from hers.

Amanda snorted as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'd like to see you try."

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Caroline Bingley. 


	7. Caroline Bingley

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Balls were something that Amanda had swiftly realised were a vital part of society.

Austen had written of them as these grand occasions to dance, talk and meet interesting people. In reality, it was hot, crowded and there were no bloody loos.

Five months into her pregnancy and baby was telling her that they really didn't appreciate it.

Intent on getting out of this hellhole, Amanda Darcy, her swelling belly a taut curve under her empire cut dress, set off in search of her husband, only to run into a different type of hell.

"Mrs Darcy," interrupted Caroline Bingley, stepping into her path.

Oh what now? Amanda muttered inwardly, but plastered on a fake smile. Caroline Bingley was not going to get the better of her. "Miss Bingley," she replied, stressing the single status.

"My, how you glow," retaliated the snobby woman insincerely.

Amanda snorted softly, pressing at her side. "Not looking forward to the miraculous miracle down the track." Dropping her voice she spoke to herself. "Wonder if I can pop through the door, give birth in a hospital and then come back with the baby?"

"I'm sorry?" asked the superior woman politely, peering at the pregnant woman over her fan.

"Nothing," said Amanda, finding it hard to believe she'd just blabbed all that in Caroline's presence. "Just wondering if there was an epidural around here." She really needed to keep her mouth shut.

"What is this epidural you speak of?" queried Caroline, her interest piqued.

Not wanting to explain, nausea returning and unknowingly leaving Caroline with thoughts of some unknown female orgy, she excused herself and set off in search of her husband as planned.

Finding him standing solemnly with two other men, she marched up to his conversation without further ado and spoke. "Fitz..." she said informally.

She heard all chattering stop abruptly and the room was deathly silent. She swore that you could have heard a pin drop. Darcy's eyebrow was raised to portray what she knew to be humour, but others might take as censure.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she swore. She was tired, pregnant, hungry, hot and had a sinking feeling she was going to be sick. She did not have time for this.

"Mr Darcy," she posed in a sugary sweet tone to appease the masses. "May I speak with you?"

The fussy masses appeased, Darcy excused himself and smoothly moved them to a balcony unseen before. Happily taking in big gulps of the fresh air, Amanda gripped the stone rail.

The next thing she gripped was her husband's jacket. "Take me home," she begged as she allowed her out-of-sorts self to rest against him.

Darcy held her close briefly before he took action. "We will leave at once."

Caroline Bingley emerged from the shadows, raising a drink to her lips thoughtfully as she watched the couple leave the party.

Hm.

____

_

* * *

_

Next Chaper:

Wickham.


	8. Wickham

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

"Well," said a voice with a mischievous tone. "How is dear Marie these days?"

Amanda was seated nine months pregnant on the couch, her legs propped up on the table, and she startled when she heard Wickham's voice in the doorway. "Are you still keeping up that ruse?" she laughed.

"But what a ruse it is!" commented Wickham as he stepped into the room and ambled over to the window. "Life could be boring without these little games I play."

"George!" admonished the pregnant woman as she struggled to sit up further in her seat.

"What would you have happen?" he declared dramatically, turning to face her. "An actual war to see my sorrowful self off to blood and gore? Nay," he implored. "You would tire from my lack of presence. I'm your entertainment in this place."

He paused a moment for effect. "And speaking of entertainment, looks to me like new life is just days away for you."

"I don't know why I keep inviting you around here," Amanda muttered to herself when he finished his random spiel, her body not cooperating as she braced her hands on the couch. "No, wait a minute. I never do."

The soldier declined from assisting as he leant against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrow. "Touche."

Amanda gave up and fell back against the couch, breathing heavily after her efforts. Resting her hand on her forehead, she realised that his gaze was on her considerably endowed cleavage as she recovered her breath.

She didn't need to speak as her husband beat her to it when he stepped into the room clad in his riding gear, his authority apparent instantly.

"Darcy," said Wickham as he pushed off the wall, inclining his head with the very merest of civility.

Darcy snapped to attention and nodded stiffly to their unexpected visitor.

Wickham left on a merry jaunt and Fitzwilliam Darcy then trained his intense gaze on his very pregnant wife. "You, my dear, should be resting upstairs."

"Oh phooey," said Amanda, shaking off his concern and reaching up her hand. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

Despite his misgivings, Darcy took her hand and eased her upwards. He maintained his hold on her as she found her balance and continued talking. "Where I come from, some women give birth in the rice fields and then go straight back to work."

"It's a strange place where you come from," the stoic man concurred as he brushed his hands over the ribbons tying his wife's front and placed his hands where their unborn child resided.

She'd been ready with a reply, but those words went out the window as she suddenly gasped and gripped her husband's lower arms.

Her fearful eyes sought out their counterpart in his.

* * *

_Next chapter_: Amanda___._


	9. Amanda

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Preparing to give birth, Amanda didn't give a fig for what was done and what wasn't done in these Austen times.

She wanted her husband by her side, and she was going to have him there. After all, it was half his fault that she was in this position anyway.

The midwife had disapproved, but as she lay back on the bed, Amanda screamed, ranted, raved and refused to do anything until Fitzwilliam Darcy was sent for.

She didn't give a fig for what his thoughts were on this whole situation either. When he stepped into the room uncomfortably, he looked very uncertain of what to do.

She quickly put him to rights though when she ordered him to her, clasped his hand and gave her husband a crash course on what pain _he _was to suffer too.

As they laboured into the night, Darcy took up residence positioned behind his wife's back so that she could rest against his chest between the steadily more painful contractions.

With each flash of pain, she gripped whatever body parts were in reach. Her language was florid as she berated him for putting her in this position. She loved and hated him in turns.

When the time finally came to give birth, the sun had begun to rise. It was pre-dawn and Amanda was exhausted, whimpering as she lay back against her husband's shoulder.

She loved him all the more in those short pain-free seconds when he brushed her matted hair back and pressed a kiss to her temple.

With the midwife urging her on, she found the strength to push and screamed one last time through blinding pain before she felt strangely empty and a cry filled the room.

Amanda was crying herself as the midwife cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the babe in a blanket, handing it to her with a declaration.

"It's a boy."

It was a red squalling mess, but in Amanda's eyes, she'd never seen anything more beautiful in her life. Suddenly the pain she'd suffered for the past seventeen hours was a distant memory.

She cradled the babe to herself as she spared a glance to her lover. She saw him uncertain and pressed her lips to his as tears continued to pour down her face. "We have a son Fitz."

"A son," repeated Darcy reverently, extending a sole finger to lightly touch his heir's cheek. The baby's cries stopped instantly at his father's touch.

When baby Darcy's head moved around unseeingly, his intent was clear. Amanda drew the loose fabric off her shoulder as she guided her son – _her son? _– to her swollen breast to nurse.

"Ay carumba," she muttered at the first sensation. As the baby suckled and the midwife bustled around, Amanda Darcy leant back against her still present husband.

It was just so surreal. She'd just borne Fitzwilliam Darcy's child. At Pemberley. With just a midwife. Without drugs. In Austen times.

No shit.

_

* * *

_

Next chapter:

Darcy_._


	10. Darcy

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Pacing the dark halls of Pemberley late one night, Fitzwilliam Darcy was confused. It was not a position that he liked or often found himself in.

Assisting his wife through her labour as she brought forth their son into the world had been unorthodox and he had expected that her peculiar demands would stop there. But no, she had insisted on breastfeeding their son alone and refused to even entertain the idea of a wet nurse.

She had no modesty either, and as much as he loved her body, it was rather shocking to see her nursing their child, often on the move as she could not stay still for long. Thankfully she didn't take to exposing herself when they had visitors.

She had barely consented to having a nanny, and only then when it was not possible for them to look after the child. She had referred to placing their son in the nursery as "day care" and insisted their son sleep in the room with them.

His love had also expected him to fully participate in all aspects of their child. When their son cried late at night she would actually push him out of bed to bring the babe to her.

The christening day was looming and there was also the frequent discussions about names. He had declared his decision to uphold the familial time honoured tradition of naming his offspring with the maiden name of the mother, but Amanda had steadfastly refused to christen their child Price Darcy.

She seemed rather set on the name Austen.

All in all, the last seven weeks had been a rather tumultuous time for him. Stuck between what he knew and expected of childrearing, he had found his wife expected so much more. Pausing, he discovered that his feet had unconsciously returned him to the chambers he still shared with his wife.

Stepping in, he moved to the small bassinette. Looking down in the dull moonlight he saw that his son was awake, the baby's eyes open and looking straight up at him clearly. He wasn't making a sound. Reaching forward, Darcy slid his hands under the baby, supporting his head as he raised him up. Wrapping a blanket around his small form, he looked down at the being nestled in his arms.

It struck him that he knew what to do. Georgiana was ten years his junior, and thus when she had been born he had memories of her. He had never known her this intimately though, he thought to himself as his son began to shift in his arms, clearly hungry.

Perhaps this new method of parenting wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Fitz?" came the sleepy call as their son's first cry sounded. Turning, he saw his wife sitting up in bed, her hair an erratic halo around her tired facade. Well used to this routine by now he made for the bed, waited for her to slide her nightgown off her shoulder and handed her their son before slipping back into his side of the bed.

His wife nursing their still nameless son beside him, Fitzwilliam Darcy rolled over, tugged the blankets around him and promptly went to sleep.

* * *

_Next chapter: _Epilogue.


	11. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own characters.

* * *

Lady Catherine sniffed as she read the letter just delivered to her by the footman. _So, Fitzwilliam now had an heir. _Folding the parchment crisply once again, she placed it on the table beside her. _At least _that _woman had seen it appropriate to name the boy for his father. The less references to her nephew's wife, the better. _The room was dark, the fire flickering only so very little in the cold room, generated very little heat as the stern woman put her spectacles off to the side and sat alone.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam slid from his horse and removed his small hat. Nodding in the direction of three acrobats passing by, he clasped the reins of his mount and led it to the stable, a task in itself. Shorner taken care of, he made for his room at the camp. He was almost to his room when the roustabout dashed up with a letter in his hand. "Letter for you sir," the young boy said breathlessly. "And the Top Hat wants to see you when you're done." Dismissing the boy with a nod, he opened the letter up. Reading its contents he laughed out loud. "What would you know," he chuckled to himself. "His cuz had it in him after all."

* * *

The news of the birth of the Darcy hair had made its way to the table at Longbourn via the morning post. Claude Bennett was only mildly interested as his wife snatched the letter from the tray and ripped it open. He took a sip of his drink as she read its contents with great gusto to her three remaining daughters. He didn't have the heart to tell her he already knew. Although, on second thoughts…

* * *

The air positively crackled around Mrs Bennet when she stepped into the assembly rooms. Her eyes quickly scanned over all those present as she decided which would be the most appropriate to divulge her news to. "Mrs Lucas!" she finally decided, swiftly shortening the distance between them and clasping the other woman's arm without warning. "Did you hear?" She gave her friend no time to reply as she continued. "Why, it almost feels like another grandchild of my own you know," she gushed. "Seeing as I took Mrs Darcy under my wing when she arrived and all."

* * *

Lydia Bennet swung on the large swing outside the house, bored of the same old, same old day to day life. _Maybe she needed a baby too?_ That would make life a little more entertaining! She wasn't alone for long as Mary walked stiffly from the house and took a seat on the bench under the tree. "Say Mary," exclaimed Lydia excitedly. "What glorious news of a baby! I would so wish myself in her position, minus marrying that Darcy bit though." The bespectacled girl sniffed. "I really have no opinion on the matter, only to say that our Miss Price has done the job expected of her." Lydia rolled her eyes.

* * *

The news of the Darcy heir was the main topic of conversation at the Shepparton Ball that evening. Caroline Bingley had received the news with a slight degree of interest, nodding her head in the correct manner that she had been taught from birth before quickly extracting herself from each conversation. The only Darcy thoughts she had was that it was because of him she was in this rather tiresome position. Flipping open her fan, her eyes scanned the room before resting on her target. Now was an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: Carlton Crowley would suit her purposes just fine. He wasn't much of a looker, but his sister Emma was.

* * *

Georgiana Darcy sat in the morning room at Pemberley, intent on her work. Her dear brother and sister had finally been able to give her the name of her nephew and she had gotten to work instantly. It had been somewhat amusing to see them debating the topic for hours. Before this year gone, she didn't think that any person could have stood up to her brother and emerged victorious. Certainly, he listened to her, but she knew he still saw her as a child. Finishing of the T, she snipped the thread and began on the next letter. Thankfully they had chosen the shorter name for everyday use.

* * *

Diana Price opened her flimsy door, puffing her last cigarette as she stepped out. Intent on getting more fags, she shut the door, twisting the knob firmly and took a step. When something crunched beneath her feet, she looked down. When the wind picked up and threatened to blow it away, she stomped on it. Bending down, she retrieved the paper and realised it was a newspaper cut out. Her eyes skimmed over the words with very little interest and she was ready to scrunch it up before she spotted something. A birth announcement.

DARCY (nee Price):

Fitz and Amanda are thrilled to

announce the safe arrival of

FITZWILLIAM AUSTEN DARCY

on 19 September at 5:52am.

Baby boy is 9lb 2oz and all

is well. I'm fine Mum.

* * *

George Wickham stood up from his desk. Holding the paper in his hand, he made his way over to the window. The delightful Mrs Darcy had written to him to announce the arrival of her son. Darcy's son too, he remembered. The paper was still in his hand as he dropped his arm and looked out the window. Nodding slowly, his mind was already processing the repercussions. Smiling wryly at the choice of middle name, he turned away.

_If only they knew..._

* * *

_Finito. _


End file.
